Love Redesigned (21 page)

Ten minutes later, a full search of the house had still not led to Harry’s whereabouts. They’d searched every room, every cupboard, every conceivable hiding place for a five-year-old, with absolutely no joy. Desperate, Holly had kicked off her shoes and gone running off into the garden, followed only a split second later by Daniel.

‘Harry!’ she shouted. ‘Where are you, munchkin man?’

‘Harry, this is Daddy. Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ Daniel called, trying to keep his voice calm.

‘Harry, come out here this instant!’ Holly wailed in the middle of the lawn, finally losing it. She was shoeless and bedraggled in her gold minidress as she sank to her knees.

‘Holly,’ Daniel said. She looked up expectedly, desperately hoping to see Harry bounding towards her. ‘Holly, get up, now. The sprinklers—’ Daniel warned, running over to her and lifting her up onto her feet—just as the sprinklers began their shower down on them. It was pure Hollywood, but all Holly could do was sob uncontrollably into Daniel’s shoulder.

With Holly cradled in his arms, Daniel slowly led her back to the kitchen, where Stephanie was waiting with towels and whiskey.

‘I think we need to call the police,’ Daniel said quietly to Stephanie as he settled a shaky Holly on a stool. ‘Could you let people know what’s happened and that no one is to leave? I’m guessing the police will want to interview people.’

‘Of course,’ Stephanie said, all practical and no nonsense. ‘Have you checked the cars?’ she suddenly asked, a lightning-bolt moment of clarity hitting her.

‘Harry loves cars,’ Holly muttered, sending the stool and towel flying behind her. She raced out to Daniel’s garage and began hammering frantically on the garage door, unable to get in. Daniel followed a few seconds later, holding a remote control and several sets of car keys. Once he’d unlocked the door, Holly went frantically between his three cars, peering into each vehicle’s back seat, hoping like she’d never hoped in her life to see a little boy curled up asleep.

Holly had just about given up all hope when she saw a sofa at the far end of the garage with a little lump under an old blanket. As she got closer, she realised it was
her
little lump. Tears of relief streaming down her face, she ran to it and snatched him up in a fierce hug.

‘I’m sorry, Mummy,’ Harry said. Holly forced herself to hold him at arm’s length and study him closely.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked him desperately, feeling him up and down for an injury.

‘Yes,’ he hiccuped with his tear-streaked face.

‘What happened?’ Holly asked gently.

‘I heard you and Daddy arguing, so I ran away. I was going to drive to Florida to see Grandad, but I forgot the car keys. Then when I tried to go and find them I couldn’t get back out,’ Harry explained.

‘Don’t you ever run off like that again. Do you understand?’ Holly said, slowly regaining her mum-mode composure, a marked contrast from the blithering idiot she’d been during the search.

‘Yes, Mum,’ Harry replied, with his trademark cheeky grin.

‘Excuse me?’ Holly said sharply.

‘Yes, Mummy,’ Harry said, and hugged her tightly.

‘Good boy,’ she said into his lovely curls.

‘Come on, Daddy,’ Harry said over Holly’s shoulder. Holly felt another pair of arms wrap around her and Harry. These arms were big and strong and warm, although still a little damp. These arms didn’t flap in an emergency—well—not for too long, anyway. These arms were safe, she realised. And they smelled like home.

It was past midnight by the time everyone had left and Harry was tucked up, fast asleep, in bed. Stephanie had agreed to keep a watchful eye on little Harry Houdini. Miranda had gone. Holly didn’t have a clue where Jake was. She guessed their goodbye could wait till morning though.

She was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter, sipping a very sweet cup of tea. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the stainless steel fridge and couldn’t help but laugh. She looked horrendous. Like some sort of Halloween zombie with her hair sticking up every which way and her makeup streaked all down her face.

‘Why are you laughing?’ Daniel asked as he stood on the other side of the counter, drinking his own drink.

‘I look a state,’ Holly said, smiling. ‘You, on the other hand, still look refined and polished.’

‘Is that your idea of flirting?’ Daniel asked with a glint in his eye.

‘No,’ Holly said quickly. ‘It wasn’t.’

‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’ Daniel asked, fixing her with a piercing look.

‘Is that
your
idea of flirting?’ Holly asked, thinking herself very clever with her reply.

‘Answer the question,’ he ordered, his eyes never leaving her face.

‘I thought I loved you at first sight,’ she sighed, looking off into the middle distance. She was afraid to meet his eye. Afraid to see what she would see there. Or wouldn’t.

‘Well, I do. I loved you the first time I clapped eyes on you. Or at least I thought I did,’ Daniel began, still watching her closely, gauging her reaction. He had Holly’s attention. Her head snapped upright and she met his eye.

‘So what went wrong?’ she asked.

‘You left me,’ he said simply. ‘And I thought I’d gotten over you,’ he continued, just as she was about to defend herself. ‘But then I met you second time around.’

‘And?’ Holly asked, permitting herself to feel excited about where this conversation might be headed.

‘I thought we were finished. I thought I’d moved on. But when I knocked on your door that first morning, and found Harry, it was like I’d finally woken up—after having been living in a daze for half a decade. And I don’t just mean this is all about Harry. You must know I’m… still in love with you,’ Daniel said, clearly finding it awkward to spill all these words.

‘How much have you had to drink?’ Holly asked, trying to lighten the tone. She’d been longing to hear these words for months, but she was finding it hard to hear what he had to say.

‘Don’t joke. I mean it,’ he gently reprimanded. ‘I’ve always prided myself on being a pragmatist in everything I do. After you left I never really thought that there
was
such a thing as
the one.
But since I knocked on your door, I’ve come to realise that not only are you
the one
, but you’re the
only
one. I’m only sorry it’s taken me this long to figure it out.’

‘Wow,’ Holly replied. As declarations of love went, that was a good one. A damn sight better than
I still like you
. But she now had a problem. What was she ever going to say to that, that was halfway epic?

‘Is that all you’re going to say? Wow?’ Daniel asked.

‘Are you just saying these things because of the drama of the night?’ Holly said, a niggle in her mind forcing her to ask.

‘Holly! I mean every word,’ he said, exasperated.

‘Okay then,’ she said simply. ‘I still like you too,’ she added, cocking her head to one side. Coming up with something epic would have taken too long. She then stood up and leaned across the counter to kiss him. A heady, passionate, all-consuming and loving kiss.

‘But what about the business? We’re in direct competition now,’ she said, pulling away as the thought popped into her mind.

‘I’m glad you’re savouring this moment,’ Daniel laughed at her. ‘After tonight’s events, I have a feeling I’ll be needing a new job. Know of any up-and-coming property development companies I could apply to?’ he asked as he effortlessly pulled her over the kitchen counter so she was sitting in front of him.

‘Well, I’ll have to run your application past Chloe, of course,’ Holly teased as she wrapped her arms around his neck, a megawatt smile plastered across her face.

‘Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ he said in mock seriousness.

‘She is in charge of HR now. And I probably couldn’t pay you much either.’

‘I’ll take anything you have to offer,’ he said, leaning into her and kissing her for a very long time.

Dear Reader of Love Redesigned,

Hey you! YES YOU! Just a couple more moments, I promise.

Firstly, thank you so much for getting your hands on my second, self-published novel
Love Redesigned
. Hopefully you've bought this copy, but if you got it for free whether legally or not, then I'm
still
glad you've got it. I'm guessing if you're reading this page, then you've probably managed to carve your way through my storytelling and reach the end. So, thank you.

Secondly, whilst the story is still fresh in your mind, it would be hugely helpful and immensely appreciated if you could post a quick review on Amazon or Goodreads (or both if you feel so inclined). Or any other place you see fit to post book reviews, for that matter. The fact is, reviews play a huge part in the success or obscurity of a book. This is especially the case for an independent, self-financed author, like myself. The more reviews I get, ultimately leads to more people wanting to read my books, which basically means I am in a position to devote more of my time to writing.

If you do leave a review, then I'll be forever in your debt (disclaimer, this is of course merely a figure of speech and by no way or means holds me liable to actually fulfill my debt to you – sorry).

Thank you once again, and until next time,

Jo

For upcoming information on new releases visit
www.joiles.com

Follow me on twitter @joauthoriles

Again a huge thank you to David Gatewood, for his excellent editing. Thanks to my lovely fiancé, James, for his continual support and occasional prodding. And lastly, thanks to my own little munchkins, Bella and Custer for always making me smile and for letting me write in relative peace.

Jo Iles is a British novelist, living in Hong Kong. Following university she entered the wonderful and incredibly glamourous world of recruitment consultancy and quickly decided this wasn't for her. However, life got in the way and over three years later she was still doing the same thing. Something had to change. Jo and her boyfriend (now fiancé) upped sticks and set off for the bright lights of Hong Kong. That was over six years ago and they're both still there, enjoying a quiet life in the busy city.

Jo now belongs to a small family of village dogs which take up all her time when she's not writing romance novels.

If you would like to find out more about Jo and her life in Hong Kong, then feel free to have a gander at her blog
www.joiles.com
or follow her on Twitter @joauthoriles

Please enjoy this excerpt of the first two chapters from
Jessie Slaymaker's Non-Existent Love Life
, by Jo Iles. Now available on Amazon.

Jessie Slaymaker was one of life’s plodders. She was bright, clever, decent-looking, but she had always taken the safe path through life. Dependable, reliable, safe Jessie. And all her steadiness had gotten her was a solid career as a research economist at Finance First Bank. That was another word that described Jessie: solid. Jessie, whom no one expected to set the world alight, least of all herself. She worked hard. She always tried her best. But she was stuck.

Nothing made this realisation more apparent than her friends. Love them and treasure them as she did, they were all career high-flyers who were either married with babies, married with babies on the way, or in the process of getting married and probably having babies in the not-too-distant future. Jessie was doing none of these things.

Although she hated to admit it to herself, Jessie was lonely. As her girlfriends had all slowly but surely started settling down and getting married off as soon as they’d hit thirty, Jessie hadn’t even begun to do any of these things. Her fun, friend-filled twenties hadn’t quite carried over into her thirties, and she felt like the world was moving on while she was standing still. She had no one to settle down with. Not even a single potential candidate in that department, in actual fact.

Unless you counted her boss, the dreamy Charlie Davenport whom she’d been secretly in love with since she’d first clapped eyes on him. How clichéd was that? Unrequited love towards the boss. And it
was
unrequited. Charlie didn’t notice her unless she was talking to him about the GDP of this country or the CPI of that one. None of them countries she would ever get to visit in this lifetime.

Charlie was hot. There was no point mincing words over it and trying to be politically correct. He was tall and athletic, with clear blue eyes and light brown hair. He had the nicest smile Jessie had ever seen—not that he smiled that often, really. He lived life at too fast a pace to stop and waste time smiling at Jessie. When he could be pried away from his work he was a decent guy; he was just oblivious to Jessie’s puppy-dog looks across the office floor.

Jessie was slumped at her desk, reading but not really registering a long-winded report on currency appreciation, when she heard her name.

‘Hey Jessie,’ Charlie called, as he marched purposefully towards her desk.

‘Hi,’ Jessie replied awkwardly, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. Maybe he was coming to ask her out. She hoped.

‘This came to me by mistake,’ he said, handing her an envelope. So, no date then.

‘I’ve got one too though, so maybe I’ll see you there.’ And then he was gone. Could that be classified as a date? At a severe stretch, maybe.

‘Yeah, sure thing,’ Jessie replied to his retreating back.

It had arrived. Hand-delivered by no less than the dishy Charlie Davenport. Well, kind of, as Jessie looked at the stamp. She’d known it was coming. She’d been expecting it for some time. ‘It’ was a crisp white envelope made from the highest quality paper money could buy. She sat staring at it, wondering whether to open it. She knew what was in it, so why should she put herself through the ordeal of actually seeing it written down in black and white?